


Tim

by foryouandbits



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [7]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Ficlet, Jealousy, M/M, Original Character(s), bitty is clueless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 19:31:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8297638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foryouandbits/pseuds/foryouandbits
Summary: Bitty drops his flashcards on his way to his French quiz and a helpful boy picks them up. Bitty has no idea what's going on.





	

Tweeting and walking was always a bad idea. Tweeting and walking AND sifting through forty flashcards in a literal last-minute attempt to cram for a French vocab quiz was Bitty's worst idea yet. He sent off a tweet, started to conjugate _être_ , crossed the bridge, and then caught his toe in the very first sidewalk crack and dropped absolutely everything on the ground. The wind took the flashcards and scattered them all over the wide sidewalk and accompanying grass, and as Bitty watched them swirl in the air in their slow, mocking descent to the ground, he contemplated just leaving them there. French class started in five minutes and he wasn't even to the quad yet.   
  
But his Mama raised him better than that. You don't leave a mess for someone else and you sure as heck don't leave several dozen flashcards all over campus when it's your stupidity that put them there in the first place.   
  
Bitty picked up his phone first, thankful that the fall didn't crack the screen, and put it in his pocket. He then began scooping up flashcards when a gentle laugh sounded from behind him.  
  
"Need some help?"  
  
Bitty turned around. At the end of the bridge stood a boy with short platinum blonde hair and bright brown eyes and skin that flushed in just the right places. He had on a black leather jacket and carried a green motorcycle helmet in his hand. Bitty had probably seen him before – Samwell wasn't that big a campus – but didn't recognize him and definitely was not familiar enough with him to be on the recipient's end of that coy a smile.   
  
"Um, sure," said Bitty, because any help would get him to French faster and that much closer to at least a C minus. Jack would be disappointed but Jack's Québécois was what got Bitty into this mess in the first place.   
  
Bitty and the motorcycle boy gathered up all the flashcards in a matter of minutes. When motorcycle boy finished, he held out his helmet to Bitty, and a Bitty had to dig through it to collect his cards. "Where you headed?" the boy asked.  
  
"North quad."  
  
"Oh me too." They headed in that direction and Bitty threw his flashcards into his messenger bag for safe keeping. "I'm Tim by the way."  
  
"Eric," said Bitty and it was still weird to say his real name, but no one outside SMH really understood the nickname thing, although Bitty was easier to explain than Ransom or Holster, or even worse, Lardo or Shitty.   
  
"You're on the hockey team, right?" Tim asked.  
  
"Oh! Yeah! Have you been to a game?"  
  
"Yeah, my campus job is at Faber so I see you guys there a lot. I usually work the concession stands during games."  
  
"Oh," said Bitty and suddenly he felt very bad for not recognizing Tim.   
  
"You guys are doing great this year. Just as good if not better than last year. I know people were worried with Jack Zimmermann graduating what would happen, but like I told my boyfriend – my ex-boyfriend actually – the team is stronger than just one player."  
  
"Yeah, that's true, but we do miss Jack," said Bitty and his heart constricted in his chest to have to talk so broadly about his boyfriend. They approached Bitty's stop and Bitty headed toward the steps. "Well this is me. Thanks for the help; I'm late for a quiz and I would still be out there picking up flashcards if not for you." Bitty took out his phone to look at the time and immediately got distracted by several new additions to the group chat.   
  
"No problem," said Tim. "Hey, do you want to get coffee after class?"  
  
"What?" Bitty asked, looking up. Tim had flushed even redder, his smile strained.  
  
"I just asked if you wanted to get coffee. After class. Unless you're busy."  
  
Bitty felt the tips of his ears redden like they always did when he was embarrassed. He took one step up the stairs and Tim also backed away.   
  
"Um, I have another class after. And then I have practice."  
  
"No problem. Maybe I’ll see you at Faber sometime?"  
  
"Yeah, maybe," Bitty muttered.   
  
Tim was already several feet away. "Good luck on your quiz!" Tim said with a wave, then turned around and bolted in the other direction, back the way they came. Bitty watched him, confused, and then remembered his quiz and ran inside the building.   
  
\---  
  
"And then he said 'Good luck on your quiz' and practically ran away," Bitty said that evening on the phone with Jack, his dirty flashcards spread out on the bed in front of him so he could determine which ones needed to be re-written. Most of them were salvageable, but _un livre_ was unreadable. The quiz that afternoon actually wasn't so bad; he recognized all of the French words and easily translated them back into English, but his trouble always came when he had to translate into French. He had the worst time remembering which way accents slanted (" _L'accent grave_ is to the hallway, Bits. Just remember, you're facing the TV in my apartment and the accent slants into the hallway") and his spelling was atrocious, even in English.   
  
Jack laughed on the other end of the phone.  
  
"What?" asked Bitty.  
  
"Bits, he was hitting on you."   
  
"Whaaat? No, I'm sure he was just taking pity on this poor soul who clearly is the clumsiest idiot on the planet."  
  
"He casually mentioned his ex-boyfriend and then asked you out for coffee.  He was hitting on you." Bitty mentally replayed the conversation in his head, from Tim's motorcycle helmet to his attempt to talk to Bitty about hockey to the grin that was on his lips the whole time.   
  
"Oh Lord he was hitting on me. Why was he hitting on me?"  
  
"Um, because you're incredibly hot?" Jack said in the same voice that normally accompanied chirps.  
  
"Pfft," said Bitty.  
  
"No, Bits, you are. You're a starter on the hockey team, which is the most successful team at Samwell. We went all the way to the championship game last year. That itself is hot, and then take into consideration your arms –“  
  
"My arms?"  
  
"– and your ass –“  
  
"My ass?"  
  
"Bits, you might not be tall but you are _ripped_. And your haircut and big eyes? I'm surprised you don't have puck bunnies lining up the block for you."  
  
Bitty put his head in his hands and felt more embarrassed than anything else that the clues were more than obvious and he still didn't get Tim's intent. "Now I feel bad," he said.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Well I didn't realize he was hitting on me."  
  
"What are you going to do? Call him up and say you'll go to coffee with him? I'll remind you that you have a boyfriend."  
  
"Jack Zimmermann, are you jealous?"  
  
"Of some knight-in-shining-armor motorcycle riding blond with the confidence to ask you out after five minutes with you? Never."  
  
"I think you are."  
  
"Well, if Tim ever bothers you again, you tell him you have a serious boyfriend who plays professional sports and will not be afraid to come up there and kick his sorry ass for messing with my man." Bitty's smile felt so wide that it would split his face in half and he couldn't help the giggle that escaped his lips. "You are mine,” Jack added, and the growl in his voice caused desire to pool in Bitty’s belly. Bitty lay back on his bed and curled onto his side.  
  
"I'm yours, sweetie. Just yours,” Bitty whispered.  
  
"How'd you do on your quiz, by the way?" Jack asked, the moment gone. Bitty groaned and hid his face under his pillow, ignoring the heat that flushed over his skin. Jack was going to pay for this the next time they saw each other, and as Bitty glanced at the Halloween costume hanging from his closet, and knew exactly how to do it.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [these tweets](http://foryouandbits.tumblr.com/post/151892883615/has-anyone-done-a-fic-of-this-yet).
> 
> Be sure to read part two [here!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8311477)
> 
> Also if anyone is interested in seeing a 2nd chapter of this from Tim's point of view, let me know! Tim has been stuck in my head lately.


End file.
